


Lightning

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Community: fanfic100, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-15
Updated: 2006-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Rodney sleeping in his arms, John listens to the storm raging outside the window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> For the Fanfic100 challenge 068. Lightning

The lightning flashed through his room, battling with the shadows and casting eerie figures and shapes upon his bedroom wall. John counted slowly until the deep rumble reverberated through the room, seeming to resonate deep within his bones and psyche. For a moment, his thoughts were thrown back to the first storm, recalling the rain lashing his body and face as he screamed out Kolya's name, almost begging him not to follow through on his threat to kill Elizabeth.

Even with more than a year separating him from that time, he still recalled the edge of guilt that underpinned his quiet desperation, for once Elizabeth was dead only one person remained a hostage to Kolya's brutality; Rodney. Visions of Rodney had swept through him that day, imagining his eyes wide with fear, his hands and lips trembling from shock as he wondered how long he had before Kolya killed him too.

Later, when it was all over and they had survived both the storm and the Genii invasion, John had found it easy to retreat behind his laconic mask of near indifference. He had rolled his eyes at Rodney's feeble attempt to dress his own wound, not wanting to look too deeply and register the glassy-eyed shock that had let Rodney believe that such a dressing was a great idea. He had not wanted to admit to the fear for Rodney's life that had sent so many of the Genii to their deaths, not that he regretted his actions. They were the invaders, storming into his city, killing his men and threatening the lives of people he cared about...and someone he loved.

If he had any regrets at all it was that he did not kill Kolya when he had the chance on that second meeting as they searched for the missing Potentia--ZPM--once given to the Brotherhood. Instead, he had let Kolya go out of some misguided notion that it was the right thing to do, especially as Kolya had brought Rodney back unharmed that time. Hindsight was always 20/20 and, four days ago, he had paid for his lack of vision almost with his life.

He shuddered in remembrance of the excruciating pain as the wraith stole more years of his life with each feeding, finally draining him to the brink of death before giving him back his life. He had let that wraith go, respecting the deal he had made with a creature that had shown more honor than the Genii commander, while secretly hoping his generosity never turned around and bit him in the ass, as it had with Kolya.

Of course, Kolya managed to escape and John could not decide whether he felt good or bad about that because he doubted Ronon would have let the man live after what he had seen done to John--and John wanted to be the one to pull the trigger on Kolya. Neither Ronon nor Teyla could imagine a worse crime than to feed another human to the wraith. It went against every code of honor that they believed in, and John wondered if Kolya realized how powerful an enemy he had made that day because Ronon was not the type to forgive and forget--ever.

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Despite attempts to keep it from him, John knew all about Kell and the trap Ronon had set so he could take his revenge upon a man who had sent thousands to their deaths just to save his own cowardly hide. One day he would bring up the subject with Ronon and let him know that he understood and did not condemn him for his actions. As for Teyla, John knew she still rued the day she took him to the Genii home world believing them to be good and honest people who would be willing to trade for food with the new Atlanteans. He doubted she would ever forgive their betrayal even though the main instigator, Cowen, was now dead.

He flinched slightly as another fork of lightning illuminated the room for a split second, like a camera taking a snapshot of a single moment, revealing the timeless beauty of his room in Atlantis, and the more precious gift of his lover curled against his side. Pale skin and fine, light brown hair were burned onto John's retinas, along with the image of a single hand lying motionless, with fingers splayed across John's chest. John's flinch seemed to carry through to Rodney and he felt those fingers twitch, curling slightly around his chest hairs, the slightly callused pads pressing into his flesh as Rodney's deep breaths faltered momentarily before settling back into the soft rhythm that John knew and loved so well. Part of John was glad it was Rodney's left arm draped over him. He doubted he could have borne the sight of that jagged scar on Rodney's forearm while his memories of Kolya's brutality were so close to the surface, not wanting to awaken Rodney from his peaceful slumber.

His own skin was unblemished now, with even old scars healed and faded to nothing by the life that had flowed back into him; the giving of life every bit as painful as the original taking away. For his own part though, he had no true memory of the pain, only that it had occurred. He had felt his increasing decrepitude with each feeding and had seen the paper-thin flesh and liver spots of age upon dry and wrinkled flesh but he had not seen his prematurely aged face. He had only the image memory of his elderly grandfather to give him any idea of how he might have looked. No new nightmares followed him down to sleep because he had already suffered through similar after seeing Sumner, and Abrams, and Gaul and Everett, and so many more nameless, often faceless corpses lining the interior of a hive ship or left to rot on a culled world.

The same could not be said for Rodney who had refused to look away as the wraith drained John of his life. Now Rodney's nightmares had substance, even if they were played out in grainy images from poor quality video feed. Perhaps that just added to the horror, or perhaps Rodney's incredible mind simply extrapolated, turning poor video feed into glorious yet gruesome Technicolor.

For three nights now, John had held Rodney through his nightmares, holding him tight until the worst had passed and then quieting the soft whimpers with gentle caresses and kisses. He knew the nightmares would fade in time, most likely replaced by something equally terrifying and, for a moment, he let his thoughts dwell on death.

His own death had never bothered him so much because he had come to terms with that possibility many years ago in the harshness of Afghanistan, but Rodney's death played upon his mind. For a moment, he thought of Jack O'Neill, wondering how he had survived the loss of his scientist and he realized that O'Neill had never truly recovered, not even after Jackson was restored to him. The thought made him shudder and he tightened his arms around Rodney fractionally, enough to make his lover squirm a little against John's chest before settling once more.

Another fork of lightning sent the room into sharp relief but the rumble of thunder was lower and more distant, the rain gentling to soft patters as the wind slowly died down.

John pressed another soft kiss upon Rodney's hair, hearing a sleepy murmur of approval as Rodney snuggled in closer.

Like the storm, the fears driven by the events of this past week would fade into distant memory. The urge to hold on tight through the night would fade too until they rested easily side by side once more rather than bound almost too tight in each other's arms. For now, the feel of Rodney's strong body wrapped around him and anchoring him to this world, was something they both needed until the storm had passed.

THE END


End file.
